


holding me close until our eyes meet

by lucylikestowrite



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Heavy Angst, Like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-30 23:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13962414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: “Sara’s fine,” Ray said, and, for a second, Ava’s worry dissipated slightly. Then he said, “Right now. She's fine right now. But itisabout her,” and her heart dropped.Ray had never looked more serious. Ava wanted to cry, wanted to yell at him to just spit it out already.This was supposed to be a lazy morning. There wasn't supposed to be any bombshells.“And Mallus. It’s about her and Mallus.”





	holding me close until our eyes meet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plinys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/gifts).



> hey there! i don't know if it's felt like a long time to you guys, but it has felt like a long time to me. basically, i was becoming a little bit obsessive about fic and it was not good for my mental health, so i took a lil step back. I'm going to try for a more healthy approach, which means it might take me a while to get back to any feedback, but I promise i will read it eventually.
> 
> this fic is for jess, who wanted sad, and who has championed me the whole way through writing this over the past couple of weeks because she is an angel.
> 
> title is from photograph by ed sheeran

Ava was in the kitchen on the Waverider.

Sara wasn’t awake, but, somehow, Ava was now comfortable enough with the rest of the crew to risk running into them alone. They all seemed to like her now.

Or, at the very least, they seemed to tolerate her.

Ava was okay with that. She could deal with only being tolerated. All she needed was Sara, and she had her.

Somehow, she had her.

That was a miracle in itself.

Of course, miracles weren't real. Ava should have known that. There was always a catch. There had always been a catch, in every single part of her life. The universe had never let things go smoothly for her.

But Ava wasn’t thinking about that when Ray sat down next to her, trepidation evident on his face. He was still the farthest away from liking her, which, to be honest, was fair, considering how their introduction had gone.

He seemed nervous, but more so than normal, more so than he had been in the select few other conversations they had had. His eyes were wide, his hands gripping onto a metal mug.

At first he didn’t say anything. When Ava stared at him, hoping for some sort of reason for his presence, he was spurred into motion. “Ava! Hey!”

His voice was too cheery. He was hiding something. That much was obvious.

“Did you want something?” Ava asked, worry growing in the pit of her stomach. “Wait. Is Sara okay? I only left her a few minutes ago. If you idiots have let something happen to her in the _five_ minutes I've been away...”

His eyes widened even further, and Ava felt like, even if maybe she hadn’t got it exactly right, that she was close, and her stomach turned, her heart speeding up.

This was about Sara.

Her mind raced, scrolling through any number of things it could be. None of them were good.

“Sara’s fine,” Ray said, and, for a second, Ava’s worry dissipated slightly. Then he said, “Right now. She's fine right now. But it _is_ about her,” and her heart dropped.

Ray had never looked more serious. Ava wanted to cry, wanted to yell at him to just spit it out already.

This was supposed to be a lazy morning. There wasn't supposed to be any bombshells.

“And Mallus. It’s about her and Mallus.”

Ava’s mouth was dry. “ _What_ about her and Mallus?” she asked, and her voice was hardly above a whisper.

“Well. It might not ever come to it,” Ray said, hesitating slightly. “But we think Sara’s particularly susceptible to being possessed by him. And because she’s been possessed a few times now, we’re worried that if it happens again, she won’t be able to control him.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

A drumming sound echoed around the room. Ava realised it was her fingers, incessant against the table top. At the realisation, she stopped, the room suddenly sounding quiet.

“It means that if he takes her over again, if she can’t come back, that we need to kill her. To stop him using her once she's gone.”

Ava’s mouth fell open, and she stood up, pushing her chair back with so much force that it fell over. “You’re fucking with me.”

“No, Ava-”

“You don’t just walk in and tell someone they might have to kill their girlfriend, just like _that_.”

“Ava, please-”

“Which one of the other idiots put you up to this?” Ava asked. She could feel the venom dripping from her mouth, her anger palpable, but she couldn’t help it. She didn't care about being nice right now, not with heat coursing through her veins. “Because I _know_ you didn’t come up with that on your own.”

“Ava,” Ray said again, like some sort of broken record. She pushed past him, and he grabbed at her arm. She turned back, her eyes blazing. All it took was one stare for him to drop his hand away like he had been burnt.

“It's Director Sharpe to you,” she said, gritting her teeth. He looked hurt.

A small part of her wondered if maybe he was telling the truth. A larger part told her that he _couldn't_ be. That part didn't care about being the bitch he probably thought she was.

She walked out of the kitchen, ignoring his last ditch attempts to stop her. Her heart was still beating out of her chest, and there was a horrible noise in her ears.

The short journey back to Sara’s room felt like it took an eternity. When she opened the door, she found Sara, now awake, getting changed.

She turned as Ava entered the room, a smile on her face. “Hey, babe,” she said, before registering the look on Ava’s face, her smile fading away.

“Are you okay?” Sara asked, pulling on the shirt she was halfway into.

Ava closed the space between them, her hands finding Sara’s arms. She felt this need to be close, to touch her, to make sure she wasn’t going to disappear from under her fingertips.

She couldn't say anything. The words refused to form in her mouth.

Sara looked up at her, her face twisting into worry. “Ava. You're scaring me.”

Ava shook her head, as if it would clear her mind.

As if would make all of this go away.

When she spoke, her voice was slow, still processing Ray’s words.

“Ray just told me that if you got possessed by Mallus again we might have to kill you,” Ava said, stumbling over the last few words. Sara’s opened her mouth to speak, but Ava kept going, her voice speeding up. Maybe she didn't want to hear what Sara had to say. “And I told him that was ridiculous, because you would’ve _told_ me something like that, right? You would’ve told me if there was a chance I’d have to _kill_ you, or watch someone else do it and not be able to do anything about it.”

Ava’s eyes searched Sara’s face frantically, her eyes pleading with Sara to tell her Ray was crazy, that this was all some messed up trick, that they were fucking with the new girl, the outsider.

Sara didn’t.

Instead, she sighed, shrinking in closer to Ava, her body slumping, her head going down. “I was going to tell you. I promise.”

Ava’s heart dropped again. It was like someone had pulled the floor away from underneath her. Her grip on Sara’s arms tightened, and it was all she could do not to fall apart, right there.

Sara looked up at her, her eyes wide. “It’s just not something you drop on a girl on the first date, you know? Or the second date. Or the third. And then by the time I felt like I _could_ tell you, everything was going so well, and I couldn’t make myself tell you because I didn’t want to ruin this,” she finished, and her expression was so hopeless that Ava’s heart broke.

Her hands moved upwards, until they were either side of Sara’s face.

“You’re not going to ruin this. Not like that,” Ava said. Sara’s eyes closed, and she took a deep breath, her head tilting as she leant into Ava’s hold.

Ava’s fingers ran lightly through Sara’s hair.

When Sara opened her eyes, there were tears there, tears that spilled out, running down her cheek. Ava’s thumb found one, wiping it away, and Sara almost smiled. Almost. Instead, another sob ripped through her.

It was hard seeing Sara like this. Ava had never really seen her this vulnerable, hadn’t even been sure Sara had it in her.

Sure, she’d seen her angry - seen her losing her control that way. But not like this. Never like this.

“You have to tell me things like this,” Ava said, and Sara nodded.

“I know,” Sara said, her voice quiet. “I’m sorry. “

They were both silent for a second, and then Ava spoke. “Don’t be. I understand why you did it.” She stopped, the silence loud. “I just don’t want to lose you,” she said, her voice almost breaking.

“You’re not going to,” Sara said, her voice firm. But there was a waver behind it, a small piece of doubt, because both of them knew now that losing Sara was a chance. No matter what Sara said, no matter how many times she denied it, the truth was out there, and they would both have to deal with that.

Sara pulled them together, lips meeting. Sara’s body curved in towards Ava’s, pressing in close.

One of Ava’s hands stayed where it was, still cupping Sara’s face. The other moved to her waist, holding her there.

Ava wished she could freeze that moment in time, with Sara under her hands, safe.

But even as she stood there, Sara’s mouth on hers, she knew that this was what she'd signed up for.

Sara wasn't normal. Ava wasn't either. She couldn't be mad at Sara for not telling her.

How did you break that sort of news?

The answer was that you didn't, you waited for it to come out at exactly the wrong time, you waited for someone else to let it slip.

Sara’s mouth was desperate, like she was drowning. Her hands were in Ava’s hair, tugging just hard enough for a bite of pain to rise up, but Ava hardly noticed.

Her mind was consumed, the only thing on it the immediate present of Sara moving under her hands, and this new future, this new future where, one day, maybe, Sara wouldn't be there anymore.

She should've prepared for this.

She hadn't.

Sara had risen from the dead multiple times. She had always found the loopholes, or someone else had found them for her.

From the way Sara was leaning in close, as if this was the last time they would touch, Ava got the feeling that there would be no loopholes this time. You couldn't find a loophole if you didn't know your enemy, and they didn't, not really.

When Sara finally pulled away, her lips swollen, she still looked sad.

Ava felt like a failure. All she ever wanted was for Sara to be happy. She moved a hand to tuck a piece of Sara’s hair behind her ear. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Sara nodded, and then it seemed like all the fight went out of her, and she flopped down on her bed. Ava followed her.

Sara's head went to Ava’s shoulder. Ava closed her eyes, trying to fight back everything she was feeling.

The room was silent. The only sound was their breathing.

When Sara spoke, her voice was low, almost bitter. “I think I didn't tell you because I forgot anyone would care.”

Ava started, her fists bunching up. The words shouldn’t have been a surprise. Sara talked like this all the time, and every time she did, Ava wanted to scream, or cry, or hold Sara down and love her until she never said something like that again. “Sara…”

“When Ray first told me what Constantine told him, that they might have to kill me, I just accepted it. The team accepted it. That's just life when you live this sort of fucked up life, right? Someone tells you you might have to die and you just roll with it because you can't do anything else.”

Ava couldn't say anything. She just shook her head, feeling tears welling up, and giving up on trying to fend them away.

“But I'm not used to this. Having someone. Having _you,_ ” Sara said, after a pause. “Having someone invested in me like this. Having someone who might not just roll with it.”

“You should get used to it,” Ava said, finding Sara’s hand with her own, wrapping her other arm around Sara, pulling her close.

“I'm a dangerous person to be invested in.”

“I know. I don't care,” Ava said, her voice firm. “I know what I signed up for.”

They stayed like that, wrapped deep in each other, until something came along to break them apart. Ava was always reluctant to let go of Sara, but now…

Now letting go felt like losing her.

 

-

 

Nothing changed, and everything did. Ava stopped sleeping at her apartment. She all but moved into the Waverider. Time couriers made worries about commutes a non-issue.

Ava had her own room on the ship, but it never got used.

Sara was restless when she slept, but Ava didn't care. She didn't care about being woken up in the middle of night to Sara jerking awake from whatever nightmare she'd been living through.

All she cared about was being there to hold her until she fell back asleep, or to talk her down when sleep wouldn't come.

She learnt every line of Sara’s body, quick minutes or long hours depending on how much time they had.

Sara wouldn't admit it, and neither would Ava, but they were living every day and every night like it was their last.

Ava would find herself pulled aside in the corridors of the ship, a hot mouth and needy hands on her skin, and she would make the most of every second that she had Sara close.

She was more in love than she could remember ever being, and it all seemed so unfair.

Sometimes, it was Ava who couldn't sleep. She would lie awake for hours, watching the rise and fall of Sara’s chest, steadying herself with the assurance that Sara was, for now, still alive and breathing.

Sometimes, Sara would wake up, catch Ava staring. She would laugh, and then she'd be pressing in, her lips warm, their limbs tangling under the sheets, her hands everywhere, driving Ava crazy.

She was so alive, so utterly utterly alive, and Ava didn't see how that could ever change, how the universe could ever let that change.

 

-

 

When they went on missions, Ava got more reckless, taking more risks to protect Sara, even when they weren't fighting Mallus, even when there was no risk that that day would be the day.

One time, Ava got knocked out, and woke up half a day later to a worried Sara hovering over her in the Med Bay, her face twisted in anguish.

“Don’t do that again,” Sara had said, and Ava had wished she could promise she wouldn’t.

Most of the time, though, it was just flesh wounds, bruises mottling her skin, knicks where a knife had scraped her, thin lines of blood from bullets that narrowly missed.

Usually their intended target had been Sara.

Sara would chide her, telling her off for being stupid while she fixed whatever wound Ava had managed to obtain.

Her fingers would be soft as she bandaged wounds, stitched Ava up with the expert precision that only comes from having done this sort of thing hundreds of times before.

Later, she'd pull Ava apart in bed, her fingers and her mouth dancing around the cuts and bruises, expertly avoiding the injuries that Ava had collected and making Ava feel like she'd never even got them, like she'd never been hurt.

When she was with Sara, lights low and clothes long forgotten, she couldn't think about anything else.

Afterwards, when they were done, chests heaving and muscles weak, Sara would look at her, the same look every time.

She would tell Ava that she didn't need saving, and Ava would say that she didn't care, that she couldn't help it.

Sara's face would get more serious, her fingers always pressing into Ava’s skin, dragging her closer, so that they were breathing the same air.

And she would tell Ava that, if it came to it, Ava wasn't allowed to let herself get her killed.

That if Mallus took Sara over, that if Sara died, Ava wasn't allowed to be reckless like she'd been being recently. She was the Director now, and the Time Bureau couldn’t afford to lose another one so soon. So, if the worst came to pass, Ava should get the hell out and never look back.

That she shouldn't try to burn it all down, that she shouldn't go on a useless crusade against whoever it might be that brought Sara down.

Ava would nod, and try not to think about it. She wouldn't say anything, because she was sure anything she would say would be a lie.

She didn't know how to promise not to lose herself if she lost Sara, so she didn't.

Sara would notice this, because Ava couldn't hide anything from her, not again.

It was the same conversation, over and over again, as if the repetition would help.

Ava knew she wasn't giving Sara what she needed. Sara needed to know that Ava would be safe, and Ava felt selfish, not being able to give that to her.

But it was impossible, impossible to promise that everything would be fine even if the worst came to the worst, because it wouldn't be. It wouldn't be fine.

So she would just kiss Sara, ignoring all their problems for the split second at the start of every kiss where it felt like the first time all over again.

And then, when they broke apart, Ava would wonder if that was the last time they’d kiss, and she would come crashing back down to reality.

 

-

 

Sara sat opposite her, her fingers twisting, as they ate together.

It was as close as they got to dates on the Waverider. The rest of the crew had promised to give them the evening in the kitchen alone.

Interruptions for anything less than an emergency had been banned on pain of death.

“Babe? You okay?” Ava asked. It felt like. a stupid question - neither of them were really ever okay, not at the moment - but Sara would know what she meant.

“You never said you’d do it. Not explicitly.”

“Do what?” Ava asked absentmindedly, not paying Sara her full attention, instead concentrating on the plate of food in front of her, her mind wandering.

“Kill me.”

Ava's eyes shot up, the fork she'd been holding clattering out of her fingers and hitting the plate below.

The sound was loud.

“We've only talked about the afterwards. About after I'm-” Sara cut herself off, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath. “After I'm gone. But you’ve never said that you'd do it,” she finished, and her eyes could hardly meet Ava’s.

Ava swallowed.

Sara looked at her, her eyes wide. “I need to know if you’ll be able to do it. If it comes to it.”

Ava still couldn't say anything.

“Ava, please.”

“And if I didn't think I could do it? What then? You break up with me?” Ava almost spat it out, her words bitter. She hardly even knew where it came from. It was a knee-jerk reaction to a question she didn’t want to answer, worry and doubt spilling out, before she could stop them, raw emotion tinging her words with pain.

“What?” Sara's face twisted in shock. “No. God, no. Why would you even say that?”

Ava sighed, letting out a breath. “I don’t know. Sorry. I just can’t think right now.”

Sara stood up, walking round the table in a couple of steps.

They could never spend long apart before gravity pulled them back together, this need to have each other close always on their minds.

Sara dragged Ava’s chair back, away from the table, leaving space for her to fall into her lap, legs bracketing Ava’s.

She leant down, her arms stretching out either side of Ava’s neck.

“I just wanted to know so we could prepare. If you don't think you could do it, we’ll just have to make sure there's always someone else around,” Sara said, looking away.

Ava sighed again, dragging Sara’s face back to look at her. “No.”

“No?” Sara asked.

“I'm not going to watch someone else do it.”

If Ava loved her less, she might be able to step back, to let someone else hold Sara’s fate in their hands. But she loved her as much as she did, which was enough to know that the only person she trusted with Sara’s life was herself.

“You said-”

“It was a hypothetical, _Miss Lance_ ,” Ava said, hoping that the tease hid the pounding of her heart.

“So if it comes to it-”

“It's not going to come to it,” Ava said, because that was the only way she could make herself okay with what she was agreeing to.

“But if it does.”

Ava nodded, the smallest of nods, and that seemed to satisfy Sara, because she didn't say anything more, just wrapped one hand around the back of Ava’s neck, the other bunching in the front of Ava’s shirt, dragging their faces back together.

Her touch was rough, harsh, but the time for being gentle was long gone.

They were both angry, and it showed.

They were both desperate, desperate to forget for a second, to forget everything that could be coming.

When they crashed together on Sara’s bed, Ava sucked a line of bruises down Sara’s body. Ava watched in wonder Sara fell apart under her hands. Every time felt like the first time.

Then, when it was over, when Ava was tracing with her fingers the purple marks that she had made, all of a sudden all she could think of was other wounds she might end up causing.

When she slept, she dreamt of the bruises getting worse, spreading, turning dark black. She dreamt of a gun in her hand, of a gaping wound, and when she woke up, a gasp on her lips, it was Sara’s turn to distract her with soft lips and softer hands until she almost forgot.

Almost.

She could never completely forget. Neither of them could.

It was always on the back of their minds, no matter what they were doing.

 

-

 

During briefings they gravitated towards each other, Ava reaching out absent minded hands to reassure herself that Sara was still there.

There were heart-stopping moments when, during a fight, or recon, or a confrontation, Ava would lose sight of Sara, even for a second, and her mind would jump to the worst possible conclusion.

She would wake up and find Sara not there, and it became too much.

Even when Ava knew why Sara wasn’t there, when she knew that Sara was safe, it didn't stop her from feeling an empty space next to her and falling apart.

Knowing that Sara was safe didn't stop her from looking at the indent in the bed next to her, and thinking about how a world where Sara was nothing more than a memory could become her reality.

That she could be knocked back to square one.

Knocked back further than square one.

And that she could be the one that did it, the one who pulled the trigger.

The one who ruined everything.

It didn't matter that it would be Mallus who caused it, who set the series events in motion. She would be the one who ended it.

It was too much to bear.

Sometimes she wanted to run away and never look back. Sometimes, when she wasn't around Sara, it seemed like something she could just about do.

Cut loose while she still could. Leave the pain of worrying about the future behind, replace it instead with the pain of loneliness, of knowing what she would be leaving behind.

And then Sara would reappear, with that look on her face, that look that seemed to be reserved just for her, and Ava knew that she couldn't go anywhere, even if she tried.

She was tied to Sara irrevocably, strings pulling them together.

One word from Sara, and any thought of leaving, of doing anything but staying next to her went out of her mind.

Ava was in too deep, and there was no way she could leave.

No, she was there until the end, whatever that may be.

 

-

 

Time passed. Mallus did not rear his head. The worry lessened, slightly. Only slightly.

Ava wondered, on some nights, awake with Sara curled up next to her, blissfully asleep, if they were being lulled into a false sense of security.

If the universe was holding its breath.

 

-

 

“How am I supposed to know if I should do it?” Ava asked.

They were in bed. Sara seemed half asleep. Ava was tracing lines on her back, fingers running over the now familiar scars. It wasn’t the right time to ask this sort of question, but there was never a right time.

Sara turned her head so that she was looking at Ava. Her expression was sad.

“If I get possessed again. That’s when you do it.”

Ava sighed, looking away, her hand stilling. “Isn’t that jumping the gun a bit? The second you get possessed again? What if you can fight it?”

“John didn’t think I’d be able to.”

“Screw what _John_ thinks. He doesn’t know you like I do,” Ava said, tears welling up.

Sara pressed in close. “You don’t know what it’s like in there. I’m not sure I could survive another minute with him in my head.”

“But what if you can?”

Ava couldn’t process the idea of Sara, defeated.

Sara sighed. “It’s dangerous, Aves. To let him have me for even a few minutes. Dangerous for you, for me, for time.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should,” Sara said.

“I’m not going to kill you if there’s a chance you could still come out the other side.”

“You’d risk time for me?” Sara asked, and there was still disbelief in her voice, like she didn’t know that Ava would now risk everything for her, a million times over.

“Obviously,” Ava said. Sara reached out a hand, trailing it over Ava’s skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

She moved in even closer, until there was no space between them anymore. Sara’s head settled underneath Ava’s chin, and maybe it was a good thing that Ava couldn’t see her face, because when Sara spoke, it was with a voice that broke Ava’s heart.

“Aves.” Sara’s tone was firm, but there was a tremor behind it. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back even for a second once he has me. That’s why I wanted you to do it as soon as he’s in my head. Because if you wait too long, if you wait for me to come out the other side, then… we’ll both end up dead.”

“I can’t just kill you if I don’t know if you’re gone for sure,” Ava whispered. “I can’t do that, Sara.”

“You might have to.”

Ava shook her head. “No. You have to tell me.”

“I can only promise to try,” Sara said.

Ava knew she couldn’t ask for more, but she wished with every part of her that she could.

“If I can fight him off, even for a little bit, then I’ll tell you when I know that I can’t hold him off anymore, okay?” Sara paused, taking a deep breath. “But we don’t know what it will be like. Whether I’ll just have to watch, or if I’ll be… gone.”

Ava’s grip on Sara got tighter.

“Either way, I don’t want that. And I don’t want that for you. So if I manage to break through, if I say the word, you gotta do it, Aves. But if I don’t say anything, if I can’t get through, you’re just going to have to do it without me.”

Ava closed her eyes, trying to block it all out. “What’s the word?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Right now?” Ava asked, because all of a sudden the fingers that had been resting on her chest were travelling lower, dancing over her stomach, teasing, and she couldn’t think of much anymore.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Sara said, tipping her head back and using her free hand to pull Ava’s lips to hers.

 

-

 

One night, they escaped back to Ava’s apartment.

Ava hadn't lived there in months, but she'd never stopped paying the rent.

That had been Sara’s idea. That maybe it might be a good idea to have a place to go back to if Ava ever needed to.

The unsaid words had hung in the air. That Ava might need a place to retreat to if the Waverider no longer felt like home anymore.

If it didn’t feel like home because it was missing the person who made it feel that way.

But for that night, they didn't have to worry about that. The timeline had been quiet for a few days. They could afford to take the time out.

Sara had only been in Ava’s apartment on a handful of occasions, and it was jarring for Ava to see her there, settling onto the bones of the life that Ava had led before Sara had come crashing into her orbit.

Ava cooked dinner.

She was out of practice. Having an AI that would cook her anything she wanted had meant her skills had slipped, but she was still better than Sara, who considered a meal to be gourmet if nothing was burnt.

Sara got in the way the whole time, pressing in between Ava and the stovetop, her face soft, her fingers teasing at Ava’s body.

Eventually Sara moved away, stopped her teasing, saying she'd set the table, and when Ava turned around, finally done, she found that Sara had found a blanket somewhere, and had set out plates and cutlery on the floor of Ava’s sitting room.

“I've got a table,” Ava said, pointing to it.

“I know. I thought this would be romantic.”

It was. Sara had found candles from somewhere, and the tiny flames flickering seemed like some sort of symbol of hope.

When they finally sat down, Ava tried for a weak smile. “I know we said that we weren't going to ever try for normal, but…” she trailed off. Sara’s face was unreadable.

Then she reached across the food in front of them, careful not to disturb everything Ava had spent the evening on, pulling Ava’s face close.

“Let’s forget for tonight, yeah?”

Ava nodded, her eyes closing.

“Pretend we’re normal,” Sara continued. “Normal girlfriends.”

So they did.

They ate, and they talked, avoiding the topic of conversation that had come up in every other conversation for what seemed like forever.

When they were done, Sara shoved the dishes aside, unceremoniously.

Ava didn't care about the mess once Sara was on top of her, pushing her down into the floor, her hands trembling as she pushed Ava’s shirt away, her movements fast, practiced, and yet still frantic.

Ava’s hands founds Sara’s. “There's no rush, Sara. Not tonight.”

Sara's hands slowed, and she leant down, her face close. “Right. Normal,” she said, before pressing in for a kiss, slow and languid.

When she pulled away, the shirt was finally undone, and Sara’s hands were flat on Ava’s stomach, moving downwards.

And, somehow, by some miracle, Ava really did forget, if just for a night.

Eventually, they made it to Ava’s bed. It was messy, the sheets still unmade from the last time she'd slept there.

That morning, she had woken up and known she couldn't live somewhere that Sara didn't live for one more night, and had left half an hour later. It had been easy to leave a place that had never really felt like home anyway.

An unmade bed didn't really matter, though. They were so wrapped up in each other that the world could've ended right outside their window and they wouldn't have noticed.

Neither of them slept a wink. Neither of them tried.

They just stayed where they were, on a bed that didn't feel like it was Ava’s anymore, awake and watching each other, arms tight.

If Ava could've frozen time then, she would've. With Sara between her arms, safe and alive, she would've.

But she couldn't, and it was the calm before the storm, even if she didn't know it yet.

 

-

 

“Red,” Sara said, out of nowhere, twisting to look at Ava. Her head was in Ava’s lap, Ava’s fingers running absentmindedly through her hair. “Easy to remember.”

Ava knew what she meant. “Okay. Red.”

Like blood. Like love. Like her eyes.

 

-

 

It was a simple mission. That was what they had thought. Nothing to do with Mallus. It would be in and out. Nothing to worry about.

It was simple enough that the team could split up, deal with two anachronisms at the same time.

Ava was in the fabrication room before they set out, gearing up, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that had no reason to be there.

When Sara joined her, there was something haunting behind her eyes. Something had changed in the fifteen minutes between when Ava had left her in their room, and now.

It terrified Ava, but Sara didn't say anything to explain, didn’t even acknowledge the fact that something was obviously wrong, just pulled Ava into a kiss, pressing her back into the wall, her mouth urgent, her hands gripping tight. “I love you,” Sara said when she pulled away, her voice earnest.

She held Ava’s gaze unwaveringly, unflinching, like it was the most important thing in the world that Ava heard her, understood her.

The uneasiness only grew.

“I love you, too,” Ava said, her eyes searching Sara’s face, desperately, for some kind of answer.

Something was wrong. She knew Sara inside out, knew her mannerisms and her body language, and she knew that something was off.

Before she could say anything, though, Sara was grabbing her hand, and they were leaving, leaving the Waverider and the team and, although Ava did not know it yet, any semblance of normality, behind.

It was supposed to be a simple mission, and yet Sara was still on edge.

Ava should’ve realised what was happening, but she didn’t. Her mind was on the job, on fixing time, on getting back to the ship as quickly as they good.

The ship felt safe.

When they were in the time vortex, not really any time or any place, it felt like they were far away from anything that could try to hurt them.

Out in the open, Ava felt no such sense of security.

So she was working quickly, clinically, and she wasn’t paying enough attention to Sara.

It wouldn’t have made any difference if she _had_ been paying attention, but it was still a hard pill to swallow.

That she wasn’t looking when Sara went quiet.

That she didn't notice the beginning of the end until it was already happening.

That it took a hand on her arm, a hand gripping harder than ever before, for Ava to turn, to realise that something was wrong.

Sara looked at her, her eyes wild.

“He’s here,” Sara said.

Ava froze.

It couldn’t be _now_.

It wasn’t supposed to be _ever,_ but it certainly couldn’t be now. It was a routine mission. A level two anachronism. There was no reason he should be here.

Not _now_.

“No,” was all Ava could say. “No.”

Sara closed her eyes, wincing, a hand going to her head.

“I’m sorry babe. I can hear him.”

“No,” Ava repeated, shaking her head.

Sara’s hands pulled at Ava’s jacket, her fingertips pressing in with so much pressure that it hurt. “Ava. Snap out of it.”

Ava blinked. Sara was staring up at her. She was so close that all Ava wanted to do was kiss her.

So she did, and Sara’s lips on hers, her fingers briefly ghosting over Ava’s face, was just enough to ground Ava.

When Sara pulled away, Ava took a deep breath, then pulled Sara back into a hug, her arms tight around Sara.

“You’re going to get through this,” Ava said.

Sara pulled away, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, babe.”

Sara was backing away, away from Ava, out of her reach, and something in Ava stopped her from following. It felt like her feet were rooted to the ground.

“I’m so sorry,” Sara said, again, and then she shivered.

There shouldn’t have been any reason for her to shiver. It was hot out, the sun beating down.

And then Sara’s eyes closed, a spasm wracking through her body. When her eyes opened again, they were red.

Ava still couldn’t move.

Sara took a step towards her, and then another.

Ava’s gun was in her hand before she even realised what she was doing.

Sara kept walking, her head tilted, as if the spectacle in front of her was interesting. She didn’t seem particularly bothered about disarming Ava.

Ava probably should’ve been worried, worried about why Sara didn't feel threatened by the gun pointed at her, but she couldn’t think, couldn’t think of anything at all.

Her mind was blank, blocking it all out.

Maybe that was a blessing.

She knew that if she let the floodgates open, this would all be too much.

But she couldn’t pull the trigger, not yet, not until Sara told her to.

Or until the time ran out. If too much time passed, and Sara didn’t resurface, then she’d just have to take the shot.

They’d agreed to that, and she’d given Sara her word.

She was counting under her breath, feeling the seconds slip away from her.

Sara moved closer. Ava backed away, her gun still steady. She kept moving until she hit a wall. Sara didn’t stop.

Ava wished she would say something. Do something. There was something more sinister about the silence. Her mouth was dry.

When Sara was only feet away, almost within touching distance of Ava’s outstretched hands, she stopped.

She suddenly buckled over, her hands going to her head, and when she straightened out, her eyes were blue again.

“You’re back,” Ava breathed, her gun lowering slightly.

“No,” Sara said, her voice strained.

“You’re not back?” Ava asked, confused.

“Not for long,” Sara replied, her voice shaky. “I don’t have long.”

“Don’t say that,” Ava said. “ You don’t know that. You can fight this. I know you can. _We_ can fight this.”

“No,” Sara said, shaking her head. “I can’t. I’m so sorry but I can’t.”

“You can’t say that for sure.”

“I can,” Sara said, her voice breaking. “I can, because this has already happened. It’s already over.”

“That doesn’t make any _sense_ , Sara” Ava said, her mind racing, her heart beating out of time in her chest. “I don't understand. What are you talking about?”

Sara shrugged, the fight going out of her. “We’re time travelers, Aves.”

“I don’t-”

Ava stopped, suddenly understanding.

The change in Sara’s face before they had left. Someone had told her something. Someone had told her what was going to happen. Someone had told her that she wasn’t going to make it out of here.

That someone was almost certainly-

“You couldn’t help it, babe. Couldn’t help going back. I don’t blame you. I would’ve done the same. One last goodbye.”

Ava’s hand shook.

“No. We can change it. Even if it’s your past, it’s my future. I can change that. We don’t have to follow the rules.”

“That doesn’t sound like something the Director of the Time Bureau should say,” Sara said, a joke coming out of her mouth, even at the end.

“I don’t _care._ ”

“You should. This is already happening. I can feel him. He’s coming back. And when he does,” Sara stopped, wincing. “When he does, I’m not going to be able to fight him off. That’s what you said to me.”

“No. We can stop this, we can do something, there must be something we can do.” Ava’s voice was speeding up, panic more and more evident. She moved to put her gun away, to take a step closer to Sara. Sara stopped her, a hand on her arm.

“We can’t. I’m sorry.”

There was something in her voice, defeat that had never been there before, that stopped Ava in her tracks.

Sara’s touch was soft.

“I can’t do it,” Ava said, looking down at her gun. “I can’t kill you.”

Because, despite everything she had said, everything she had promised, the largest part of her never thought this day would come. And now that it had, fulfilling her promise seemed a little more than impossible.

“It’s not going to be me. It’ll be him. He’ll just… look a bit like me.”

Ava sighed in exasperation. “He’ll have your face.”

“I know. You can do it.”

“I can’t.”

They were going round in circles.

“You’re the Director. You’re the strongest person I know. You can do it.”

Ava didn’t feel like the Director. She felt helpless, a woman who was about to kill her girlfriend, a woman who hadn’t been able to stop it from getting here.

“And I know that,” Sara continued, “because you already have.” She smiled, a sad smile, tilting her head. Her hand was still resting on Ava’s arm, the touch reassuring.

“God, Sara, that doesn’t mean anything. Just because some version of me could do it doesn’t mean I can.”

Sara was silent, and for a heart-stopping moment, Ava thought it was all over already. Then she spoke again, her voice calm. “That version of you was still you. You’ve got it in you. I know you do.”

Ava looked down at the gun in her hand. Sara followed her eyes.

“It’s okay, Aves.”

“It’s not.”

Sara sighed, shrugging in acceptance. “It will be. One day.”

“You won’t be there to see it.”

“And that’s okay as well.”

Anger burst through Ava’s body, her hands finding Sara’s arms before Sara could step away. “Why aren’t you fighting this?”

“Because I know that’s it’s going to happen, and I don’t want to go down hurting, Ava!” Sara said, her voice firm. “I’ve already done that once.”

Sara looked down, her hands trailing over her chest, as if remembering the feeling of arrows burying themselves in her skin.

“I want you to remember me like this,” Sara continued. “I don’t want to waste time and energy fighting when I could be spending it with you. Saying goodbye.”

The word made it seem so real, the gravity of the situation finally weighing down on Ava. Sara was resigned to this.

This was the end.

Ava’s mind raced. If this was goodbye, then there were so many things she wanted to say. She should’ve thought about this earlier, but she hadn’t.

Despite her best efforts, her mind was blank. Everything that she wanted to say was just out of reach. All she could do was look at Sara, her mouth open, as if that would force the words to come.

It was like Sara had read her mind, because when she spoke again, her voice was reassuring. “Don’t worry, babe. You’ll get your goodbyes later. This is my turn. You don’t have to think about anything. Just breathe.”

Sara had this way of calming her down like no-one else did. This way of making her forget everything.

She had had all these walls built up, and Sara had torn them down.

Ava didn’t want to have to build them back up.

She didn’t to lose Sara. Not like this.

She should’ve been preparing for this. And yet, something in her mind had convinced her that the day would never come. That they would defeat him before this ever had to happen.

But this was her reality. And she had to try to be calm. For Sara, if not for herself.

Sara was still close, and Ava could tell it was worrying her, worrying her about what would happen in Mallus resurfaced that close, but she couldn’t let go, not until Sara was gone.

Ava couldn’t find it in herself to care about herself right now.

Sara leant inwards, closing her eyes. “I love you,” she said, her voice quiet.

Despite knowing that the goodbyes had started, it was all too much for Ava.

Her voice broke as she said it back, words that had grown familiar in her mouth in a way that they never had before.

All she had had before were series of broken relationships, always ending too soon for declarations of love.

“Tell my parents I love them. That I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye.” Sara stopped, a small smile on her face. “They would’ve loved you. You’re just the type of girl they always wished I’d bring home. Sensible. Dependable. Not a murderer.”

Ava couldn’t bring herself to smile back.

“The Legends will be fine. They’re always fine. We’ve lost people before, and we just go with it. If they don’t figure out a new Captain soon, you have my permission to kick their asses until they do.” Sara paused, as if considering. “Any of them could do it. Except maybe Ray. He’s got too much heart.”

“You’ve got heart,” Ava said, indignant.

Sara considered this, then said, “Only for you,” in a voice that sent shivers over Ava’s skin.

“My friends back home… they’ll understand. They always knew I was living on borrowed time. Just make sure they know, yeah?”

Ava nodded, speechless.

And then Sara looked away, her confidence wavering, for just a second. “Can you make sure Nyssa knows?” Her voice was uncertain. When she spoke again, it was somehow both rushed and hesitant at the same time. “You don't have to tell her yourself if you don't want-”

Ava cut her off. “Yes. Of course.”

Sara was still thinking about her, even now. It was thoughtful, but Sara was wasting time. As if Ava would care about something as trivial as meeting Sara’s ex, when Sara herself was on the brink of death.

Sara's face softened. “Thank you.”

As if she didn't know Ava would do anything for her.

Sara suddenly stiffened. Ava looked down, and saw black tendrils spreading over Sara’s skin.

Sara followed Ava’s gaze. The dark lines didn't seem to bother her. She took a deep breath.

“And if you could give a message to the, uh, Director of the Time Bureau…” Sara said, her voice light.

“Oh yeah?” Ava said, and, for a second, everything went away, as they fell easily into the act.

“Tell her she's amazing. And that she deserves the world. Tell her that she was best thing a girl could ask for.”

Ava felt a tear roll down her face, and realised she was crying.

“Tell her I wish we'd had longer, but that I wouldn't trade the time we had for anything.”

Sara's hand was on Ava’s face, a thumb wiping away the tears.

“Tell her that I never thought I'd feel like this again, not after the Pit.”

Ava gasped, her mind racing. “The Lazarus Pit. I can get you there.” Her voice was fast, frantic. “This doesn’t have to be the end.”

It was a last-ditch effort, one that she knew, in her heart of hearts, that Sara would reject.

Sara shook her head. “I’ve had my second chance. That’s more than most people get. And my soul hardly survived the first time. The Pit wouldn’t let me out another time without messing me up. Not when I’m still as fucked up as I am.”

“You’re not-” Ava started to speak, but Sara cut her off, pressing a kiss onto her lips.

Her mouth was soft, her fingertips even gentler where they drifted across Ava’s face. It felt bittersweet.

Ava tasted salt. When Sara pulled away, she was crying as well, silent tears flowing down her face.

“The Pit would know that I don’t deserve it. That I don’t deserve another chance.” Sara closed her eyes. Ava watched in horror as the black tendrils grew in front of her eyes. When Sara spoke again, her voice was resigned. “It would know that I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

“Why do you always say that?” Ava asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

Sara’s hand was still on Ava’s face, her fingers feather-light on Ava’s skin.

She smiled, a sad smile. “Because I realised that I didn’t need forgiveness,” Sara said.

She was talking in past tense.

Time slowed down.

“Not when I had you,” Sara said, simply.

And then it was like something had punched her in the stomach, yanking her backwards and away from Ava before she could even react. Sara’s mouth flew open, her hands going to her abdomen.

Half a second passed, and it felt like an eternity.

Sara straightened up, took a breath, locked eyes with Ava.

She nodded, the smallest of nods, mouthed, “Red,” and then, just like that, she was gone.

Someone who didn’t know her as well might not have noticed, but even before her eyes turned deep red, Ava knew she wasn’t there anymore.

There was something missing behind her eyes. A spark. Defiance.

The sort of look that had once pissed Ava off, but that now, she would give anything to get back.

Sara had been gone for seconds and an unbearable ache was already building in her stomach. It felt like someone had torn her apart from the inside. She wanted to scream, to break down, but she couldn’t. She had to raise the gun, had to steady her hands.

She raised a sleeve to her face, wiping the tears away. The time for crying would be later. For now, she had to be strong.

For Sara.

For the woman who wasn’t there anymore.

In a way, watching the light leave Sara’s eyes had made things easier. This was the ideal situation, the situation where, when she pulled the trigger, she knew it was Mallus and Mallus only that she would be hurting.

Even if it would be Sara who would bleed.

When she looked up, Mallus was watching her, watching the gun in her hand with detached interest.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” he said, through Sara, taunting her. “Not while I look like her.”

“Oh yeah?” Ava said, gritting her teeth, flicking off the safety.

“It won’t kill me,” Mallus said. “But you already knew that.”

“It’ll give us time. Send you back to whatever hellhole you came from.”

Mallus walked closer. Once again, like before, he didn’t seem bothered about disarming Ava.

“You think you can stop me? You, and her pathetic Legends?”

“We can try,” Ava said, somehow still defiant.

“Without your leader, you will fail.”

Ava’s finger hovered over the trigger. This wouldn’t be for nothing. Sara wasn’t going to have died for nothing.

“You think you’re so strong,” Mallus said, twisting Sara’s face into a sneer, one that hurt Ava’s heart. That was the final straw. “That now that you’re the Director-”

He didn’t finish what he was saying.

The sound of the gunshot was loud, ringing in Ava’s ears.

Blood spread out quickly over Sara’s chest, staining the white fabric of her shirt a deep red.

The black tendrils dissipated as Mallus was sent back, at least temporarily, to his own dimension.

Sara fell, as if in slow motion, as the one thing left keeping her standing melted away. Ava caught her, a split second before she hit the ground.

And then she let herself cry.

 

-

 

The Waverider was chaos. No-one noticed Ava slip away, quietly open a portal to a time that seemed a million years ago. She watched, hardly breathing, as the Ava that she had been, the Ava that still had all of this to come, left the room that she and Sara shared.

Sara turned as Ava walked in.

“Did you forget something?” Sara asked, her face crinkling up.

Ava knew this was only temporary, that she only had minutes, but she couldn’t help feeling, for a second, like everything was going to be okay.

Of course, it wasn’t, and that was why she was here, to let Sara know, and then to say her goodbyes, but she let herself forget that for just a second as she closed the space between them, tugging Sara’s face upwards, and finding her mouth easily.

Sara reacted instinctively, her mouth open, her fingers eager.

Ava’s hands wrapped around the back of Sara’s neck, holding her in, tight. When she broke away, she let her eyes stay closed for a second longer than she needed to. In the darkness, she could pretend.

And then Sara looked down and let out a gasp. “You’re bleeding,” she said, her voice pained.

Ava shook her head. The fantasy shattered, the idea that this visit could be about anything other than what fate had dictated it would be about disappearing. “It’s not mine.” She looked away, tears welling up. “It’s yours. I’m so sorry, Sara, but it’s yours.”

Sara’s eyes snapped up to meet Ava’s, understanding immediately. Sara never missed anything. She was the smartest person Ava knew, her instincts second to none. “It happened?”

Ava nodded, breathless.

“You did it? And then you came back?”

“Yes,” Ava said, finally finding her voice. She could still hear the sound of the gun. She would probably keep hearing it for a long time. “I did it.”

Sara considered this, then seemed to accept it, her body relaxing. “Okay.”

Ava wished there were time to talk about that easy resignation to her fate, but there wasn’t. They had precious minutes, the clock ticking down until Sara had to meet the version of Ava that was oblivious.

So she started talking, the goodbyes that Sara had promised she would have a chance to say spilling out of her in a rush of words, trying to say everything that she felt.

Words weren’t enough, weren’t enough to describe what Sara meant to her, but they would have to do, would have to be enough, because she didn’t have anything else.

They would have to be enough to describe how Sara had come into her life at somehow both exactly the right and exactly the wrong time.

How she had all but given up on love, strings of almost-lovers strewn in her past because no-one could deal with who Ava was.

How Sara had seen that, and wholeheartedly accepted it.

How Sara was the bravest person she knew.

And, over and over again, how much she loved her. Sara was going to die, that much was certain. But Ava was damned if she was going to let her go into it with anything less than certainty on Ava’s feelings.

Sara just listened, her gaze never wavering, even as Ava stumbled over her words.

When Ava finally fell silent, Sara spoke, her hand finding Ava’s. “You’re going to be okay,” she said, and it sounded like a promise.

“I’ll try.”

“I know you will,” Sara said, standing up. “I know you will, because you’re not trying to change this.”

It wasn’t like Ava hadn’t thought about it. Hadn’t thought about going back and pulling Sara out of the timeline. But she couldn’t do it.

Sara reached the door, turning back, and looking at Ava once more. “Director,” she said, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Captain,” Ava said, her hands behind her back, and it was almost like they were back where they had started.

Almost.

Because the smile on Sara’s face, a smile that Ava was committing to memory, never wanting to forget it, was full and unrestrained and so unlike anything Sara had directed at her when they had first met.

The door closed.

Ava opened a portal back.

Gideon’s voice echoed in the hallway. “Welcome back, Director.”

“Is she still-” Ava cut herself off, taking a breath.

“The timeline is still intact, Director. Your trip, although it broke a number of protocols, has done nothing more than set the same series of events in motion.” Gideon’s voice was almost sympathetic.

Ava felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow. The trip wasn’t supposed to change anything, wasn’t supposed to do anything more than what Sara had told her it would, but if it had, she wouldn’t have complained.

“Thank you,” Ava said, before pausing. “Where is she now, Gideon?”

“They have her in the Med Bay, for now.”

 

-

 

She looked peaceful, the blood cleaned away.

The Legends looked up as she entered. No-one asked where she had been. They were walking on eggshells around her, had been ever since she had portalled on to the ship, Sara in her arms.

Ava’s vision blurred a little.

One of them spoke, and she hardly even noticed who it was. “We can give you some time alone, if you want.”

“No,” Ava said. “We’ve had our goodbyes.”

 

-

 

Ava was in the kitchen, numb. The other Legends filtered in, their faces sombre.

She put down the mug she had been holding, looking around at the people in front of her, people that she would never have chosen to work with, but that were now inextricably linked to her.

“We’ve got work to do. For Sara,” Ava said, and her voice only broke a little bit.

They nodded. There was no longer any question of whether they liked her or not. It didn’t matter anymore.

One of them placed something on the table in front of her. When her eyes focused, she could see her gun, it's outline both familiar and horrifying at the same time.

"You dropped it when you got here," Amaya said, her voice slow. "We weren't sure if you'd want it back or not."

Ava reached out, picking it up.

The metal was cold. The balance felt off.

"No, I want it." She pocketed it, standing up. "I'm going to need it," she said, her jaw tight.

Sara's fate had been written for her. She hadn't had a choice.

Ava's fate was wide open, and she wasn't going down without a fight.

**Author's Note:**

> if you want more immediate responses to anything you might want to say, hit me up at directoravasharpe on tumblr or @_avasharpe on twitter
> 
> love y'all.
> 
> (sorry)


End file.
